


Feathery Little Problem

by seashadows



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - The Soulmate Goose of Enforcement, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:55:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24121675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seashadows/pseuds/seashadows
Summary: Crowley is confused when a goose follows him home from the park one day, but it turns out that he's about to be hit with a surprise - and some aggressive wings.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 100
Collections: Adversarial Anniversary Celebration





	Feathery Little Problem

**Author's Note:**

  * For [agent_of_mischief](https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent_of_mischief/gifts).



At first, Crowley thought the goose had followed him out of St. James’s Park just to be a bastard, squawking behind him and pushing people out of the way on the sidewalk. No big deal; he’d been harassed by birds before. Maybe it was the whole ‘snake’ thing.

Then it followed him to his flat and refused to leave.

Which was how Crowley ended up barricaded in his kitchen, brandishing a broom at a honking adversary that seemed determined to destroy him. “Oi!” he shouted as the goose feinted to the left. “You try to come in here and I’ll vaporize you!”

The goose tried again. Crowley snapped his fingers – and nothing happened. “What the  _ heaven? _ ” he muttered, staring at his hand. He’d had issues with miracles before, usually when he was tired or had reached his semiannual quota, but he hadn’t had any issues with Below since he and Aziraphale scared them into thinking he was some sort of hybrid monster. “Right, let’s try this again.”

Another snap. Another failure. The goose honked at him and flapped its wings threateningly. “Oh, shit,” Crowley said. When all else failed, he could usually blame Hell. If they’d sent this thing up, then that would explain why no one tried to keep it out of his flat building. “Great, a bewitched goose. Really original, guys.”

He lowered the broom just enough to give himself space to think. That turned out to be his mistake, because the goose struck. Crowley squawked nearly as loudly as the fucking bird itself as it landed on him and started beating him about the face with its stupid feathery wings. “Ow! Fucking heaven, what the  _ fuck  _ do you want?” he shouted, throwing his arms over his face to protect it. “What did I ever do to you?”

A wing hit him in the face, and that was when he realized that he was on the ground. He’d been knocked over by a goose, of all the things. “Let me up!” He shoved at the goose, which pushed back and then hit him in the face with one of its wings. “Oh, for– ow! Ow! Stop it! I’ll do whatever you want, just fuck off!”

The goose abruptly clambered off him. Crowley breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank Satan. Had enough of torturing me? Oi, what’s that for?” The goose took his sleeve in its beak and yanked its long neck insistently towards the door. “You want me to… get out of the kitchen?” Another pull. “You want me to leave my flat. Why?”

He got a honk in response, which shouldn’t have been possible when the goose had its mouth full. But whatever—if it came from Hell, then weird, anatomically-impossible beasts were par for the course. “I can’t believe I’m listening to a goose,” Crowley said, and got back on his feet, taking inventory of his body. A few cuts and scratches but he was otherwise unharmed, unless he counted the disheveled state of his clothes. “Where are you taking me?”

It pulled him out of the flat, as he’d expected, then out of the flat building altogether. Crowley looked around as they started down the sidewalk, but just like earlier, people didn’t really seem to take notice of the goose even as it pushed them out of its way. This was getting weirder and weirder. But Crowley wasn’t so discombobulated by the whole situation that he couldn’t recognize where they were going. It was a route he’d taken hundreds of times, after all. 

“The shop?” he said, once it became clear that the goose was leading him from Mayfair to Soho. Why would a goose want him to go and see Aziraphale? He’d been at the bookshop just the day before, and they’d talked for hours. “He probably wants his space.”

The goose turned around and hissed threateningly at him. Crowley put up his hands. “Okay, okay! I get the point!”

Aziraphale’s shop was closed, obviously, when they got there, judging by the number of disappointed-looking hipsters stationed outside it, reading the sign on the door. “Nice,” said Crowley, snickering. Aziraphale got so much of a jolly out of disappointing potential customers, it would have made any demon proud. 

It took a moment for Crowley to realize that the goose had stopped walking and was looking at him with what he could swear was an expectant expression. “What, you want me to just go in?” he asked. “And do what? How am I supposed to explain  _ you? _ ”

The goose tipped its neck up and honked. Crowley followed its line of vision to the ‘A.Z. Fell & Co’ sign. “Yeah, I know this is his shop,” he said. “Why are you showing me Aziraphale’s name?”

That was when the penny dropped.

Crowley backed away slowly, cursing himself for being so slow on the uptake. “No,” he said. This wasn’t happening. It wasn’t happening to  _ him.  _ He didn’t deserve a fucking legendary phenomenon. “No, no, no, this is  _ not  _ what you’re trying to imply. Aziraphale is not my soulmate. I’m unlovable–” The soulmate goose surged forward and bit his forearm. “Ow! You feathery shit!”

The door to the shop opened with a sharp jingling, and Aziraphale’s head popped out. “Crowley? Whatever is the matter? Shoo!” Aziraphale said to the gathered would-be customers, flapping a hand at them in much the same manner the goose had flapped its wing at Crowley. “Can’t you read the sign? We’re closed! Crowley, my dear, do come in.”

Crowley considered plastering himself against the wall and trying his best to melt into it until this whole mess went away. But that would be inconsiderate to Aziraphale, and bless his fucking weakness for the angel, he couldn’t do that to him. “Sure,” he said, and reluctantly dragged himself through the crowd, the goose trailing just behind him.

Aziraphale shut the door behind him, the sound decisive and almost smug. “Thank goodness that’s over with,” he said. “I do detest these Intern Net reviews. Someone posts a photograph and all their little friends think they can come here to– oh, my, is that a goose?” His eyes went wide. “Have you adopted a pet, Crowley?”

“Hardly,” Crowley said, and fervently wished he could discorporate himself on command. He would take Hell all over again if it meant he didn’t have to deal with Aziraphale’s rejection. “The blessed thing followed me home. You can see it? No one else really noticed.”

“I certainly can.” Aziraphale held a hand out to the goose, which opened its mouth in a soft hiss. “Oh, please pardon me. I won’t touch you.”

That politeness from the thing that had assiduously tried to kill him for the past two hours brought Crowley right to the breaking point. “Oh, of course you’re not biting Aziraphale, you little fuck!” he snapped. “It’s  _ me  _ you’re tormenting!”

The goose made an irritable noise and flapped its wings at him as Aziraphale blinked. “My dear boy,” he said, “what reason would your goose have to torment me?”

“It’s not  _ my  _ goose,” said Crowley. “I don’t even like it.” The words brought back echoes of one of the more painful moments in his life, but he pushed the feelings aside. “Aziraphale.” He shook his fringe off his forehead. “Think about it. How many romantic stories have you been privy to? What does it  _ mean  _ when a goose follows someone around, goes unnoticed to passersby, and absolutely won’t leave them alone.”

Aziraphale’s mouth dropped open. Crowley winced—time to pull off the plaster, he supposed. “Yeah, I know,” he said. “Look, it doesn’t have to mean…  _ that.  _ You’re my best friend, Aziraphale. If you want it to stay that way, I won’t abandon you.”

Aziraphale closed his mouth and shook his head silently. The resulting pause stretched on so long Crowley thought he might hear it snap if he stuck around. “Right,” he said. “Um, look. I understand if you don’t want to see any more of me.” It hurt like hell to say, but he wasn’t about to push Aziraphale any farther. He wasn’t that sort of demon. “Do you want me to go? Say the word and I will.”

“What?” With a shake of his head, Aziraphale visibly snapped back to life. “Crowley, no, are you mad? Why would I make you leave my shop for being my soulmate?”

Crowley belatedly realized he’d been heading for the door when he stopped with one foot in the air. “So you know what it is and… and you don’t mind?”

“Mind? Crowley, I’ve been in love with you all sorts of ways for years!” Aziraphale exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. “I haven’t said anything because I was deathly afraid I’d frighten you away. How could you think I wouldn’t– that I didn’t–”

“Do the words ‘you go too fast for me, Crowley’ ring a bell?” Crowley interrupted, unable to help himself. This was officially the least circumlocutious conversation he and Aziraphale had ever had, at least where feelings were concerned. They hadn’t even been this direct when they were hashing out the details of The Arrangement. “Why would you have said that if you didn’t mean it?”

Aziraphale winced. Crowley tried not to feel bad for causing it. “You know why I said it, Crowley.”

“Yeah, I do,” Crowley admitted. “I’m sorry, Aziraphale.”

“Crowley.” Aziraphale put his hands on Crowley’s upper arms. “It’s all right. I understand why you were hurt. But…” His gaze flicked briefly downward. “The goose didn’t lie to you—I love you dearly. Of all the beings in the universe who could have been my soulmate, I’m so terribly glad it’s you.”

“You are?”

Aziraphale nodded, and licked his lips. Crowley watched the movement of his tongue, spellbound. “Crowley, my dear, may I kiss you?”

Crowley’s brain briefly shorted out, and he thought he might have made a noise akin to a dying computer. When he was back to himself, he managed a nod.

Then Aziraphale was moving closer, and his lips were touching Crowley’s, and Crowley’s heart just about experienced liftoff.

It wasn’t a deep kiss, but it was a long one, and Aziraphale’s face was flushed when they finally broke away. “Goodness,” he said. “I know we don’t need to breathe, but I certainly feel like I do.” He cleared his throat. “Did you… was that nice for you?”

Crowley didn’t have any objection to the word ‘nice;’ for once, it completely encapsulated how he was feeling. Warm, soft, content,  _ incandescent _ – nice. “Mm,” he said. “Yeah. Um, I really liked kissing you.” He snorted. “Do you think the goose approves?”

“I don’t know,” said Aziraphale. “It’s been awfully quiet. Do you think it– oh.”

Crowley followed his gaze and understood why he sounded so confused. The goose was gone, and somehow he knew it hadn’t just wandered off into the shop. “You know, the stories never say what happens to the geese after the soulmates find each other,” he said. “Do you think it vaporized or something?”

“Maybe.”

“Shame,” Crowley said. “I was kind of looking forward to doing that myself.”

“ _ Crowley! _ ” Aziraphale gasped.

Crowley silenced him with another kiss. “Relax,” he said. “I don’t do animal cruelty. Why would I hurt the goose if it brought me here? Beat the shit out of me, though,” he added reflectively. “Maybe it’s gone to annoy my old pals Downstairs.”

“You know, I’d really rather not think about that,” Aziraphale said. “I’d much rather have another kiss and a drink. If you’re amenable.”

“That sounds perfect.”

Neither of them thought much about the goose after that.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by Janthony, thank you so much!


End file.
